Master of the Storm

Chapter Thirty Two: Back From the Dead

A/N: this is the last chapter, takes place around a week and a half after the events of thirty one

I looked down at my hands, nervously toying with the bracelet around my wrist that Valerie had lent me, which was worth a lot more than I was, hence my nervousness around it. It was hot, even in the light dress I was wearing, and the air was suffocating.

I looked up, my gaze drawn to the front of the room, where a large picture of Olivia was mounted beside her empty casket. They put her in the ground two days before, but it would be strange to have a funeral without one.

I'd thought after going to Pluto's and Hayley's and Sean's and even Marcus's funeral in the past days would make hers easier, but it hadn't. It had been a strange, hollow sort of feeling, looking at their pictures and hearing their families tearfully talk about what good kids they were. I felt like I was at the funeral of people I had never met, like this had all happened to someone else.

Marcus's funeral had been especially uncomfortable. There'd been no one up there talking about what a good kid he was, probably because he hadn't been. The only family there was an older cousin who he'd apparently been staying with. No parents, no siblings.

The speech by the priest was over, so now everyone was moving about and engaging in quiet conversation, but I stayed glued to my seat.

"Mira," Valerie said softly, touching my arm. "Look who just came in." I turned in my seat, looking towards the door.

She stood at the entrance, a tight black dress, practically a corset with a skirt, billowing around her thighs, her pale hair tied in a braid, her eyes flicking over the room, eventually settling on me. I turned away, looking back towards the front.

Seeing her felt like a punch in the stomach. I had seen her die, seen the light leave her eyes, I had felt it. And then, two days later, I'd been told that she was in fact, very much alive. And she wasn't supposed to be. They'd removed the bullet from her intestines, and with the damage it had done, there was a very slim chance of survival.

We hadn't spoken since it had all gone down, not really. She'd come to all of the funerals except for Marcus's.

I'd barely spoken to anyone, other then the police who seemed to have new questions every day. It was all up in the air at the moment, but there was still a chance we could be charged with something. They seemed to be unable to decide whether or not the crimes we had accidentally committed with our powers were the fault of Thomas, but there was still the crimes we had committed without them.

Obstruction of justice. Destruction of property. Theft. Careless use of firearms. That was just what I'd overheard. I wondered if they would charge Beatrix for what she'd made the guards do, or if that would also be put on Thomas.

"Have you still not talked to her?" Valerie asked.

I shook my head. "I don't know what to say to her. I mean, I saw her die. She was dead. For hours. And then she wasn't."

"Are you sure she wasn't just unconscious?" Valerie asked. "I mean, it was all really scary and confusing. No one expects you to remember it perfectly."

"Evianna saw it," I said, gesturing the sad looking brunette sitting on my left. "Right?"

"I don't know what I saw," Evianna said quietly. "I just wanna get through this and go back to the mansion."

That was the thing, Evianna and I didn't really have a home at the moment. None of the survivors did, other then Valerie. I'd been living at her place, so had Evianna, but it was just temporary. Valerie's parents hadn't really been around and none of us had the strength to do anything or go anywhere. The highlight of the week had been Evianna's birthday, which was just the three of us sitting around the newly polished mahogany dining table picking at the cake Valerie had tried to make, until we'd agreed it was pretty but inedible, and we'd all gone off to bed. Some Sweet Sixteen that had been.